The Quality of Mercy

“Qui-Gon picked him up off the floor, and he was still kicking his legs, trying to get at him. All I can say is it’s a good thing that the kid doesn’t have a lightsaber yet.” Bel-San sighed, and Alla reached out a hand to give his a gentle squeeze. The poor man’s eyes were bleary as frosted plastiglass.

“At his age, I would have done the same thing,” she said, sipping at the weak Infirmary tea. “All Obi-Wan can see is the potential threat and Qui-Gon’s pain. He’s only trying to protect his master.”

“I know that, but he’s made things far worse.” Bel-San looked down, studying a stain on the sleeve of his robe. “As if things weren’t bad enough, Qui-Gon is convinced the only way for Obi-Wan to see Xanatos for what he is to actually let him see him. As in the Observation room.” Utter frustration leaked out of the other Jedi’s signature. “He asked me to sit with Obi-Wan tomorrow. Can you even fathom? It’s abominable. It’s like putting him in a room with a talking venomous snake. Except the snake is through the glass and he can’t see you.”

“Apparently Obi-Wan wasn’t just going to listen to ‘no,’ huh?”

“I just think it’s irresponsible. I don’t think Obi-Wan is ready to face what Xanatos is.” A breath shuddered out of Bel-San, and Alla’s concern for him grew. The toll this entire exercise had taken out of the people she loved was beginning to irritate her. “He’s had more than his share of burdens in his life already. He’s just a little kid. He doesn’t need to see this.”

“Well, it would seem that Obi-Wan thinks that he does. You have to admit that in his shoes you’d be curious, albeit morbidly.” Alla rolled her shoulders a bit to ease the building tension. “It’s natural that he wants to understand what’s going on.”

The gaze Bel-San turned on her was kind, but sorrowful. “You haven’t seen him yet, Alla. The things he says…and what the things he’s saying are doing to Qui-Gon…it’s truly enough to make you ill.” A slight laugh, bitter in tone, left him. “You think I exaggerate. Your master hasn’t eaten for days now, and Force knows this tea is the best I can handle right now. Being in the room with him is like being covered with crawling darkness. It does something to you.”

This time she did take his hand, feeling the calluses on his palm brush against hers. She called on the Force, and bid a slight stream of comforting energy pass into him. He looked up, alarmed by her actions, but she smiled instead. “I’ve learned a few healer’s tricks in my day,” she said, releasing his hand. “Take it in the spirit in which it was given. A small token of my gratitude for your kindness to Qui-Gon.”

Though he was still quite pale, slight warmth seeped into his cheeks from her transference, and it satisfied her. Bel-San shook his head, hands raised. “No thanks needed.”

“That may be, but I offer them anyway.” She reached over, taking the pot of tea and refilling Bel-San’s cup. “I’m not going to pretend what’s happened isn’t shaking the foundations of the world for quite a few people, myself included. The ramifications of this are going to haunt all of us, one way or another. But I think that maybe Qui-Gon has the right idea about Obi-Wan seeing Xanatos again.”

Bel-San frowned, burning his tongue on the warm drink. “The insanity is catching, I see. Best get to work on an antidote.”

She took a deep breath, selecting her words carefully. “Prevention is better than a cure, Bel-San. You and I, of all people, want to make sure that Obi-Wan grows up to be the sort of Jedi that Qui-Gon can take pride in. Let the kid see what happens when you delude yourself into thinking that more power is better, no matter where it comes from. Let him see the Dark side for what it truly is. Let him experience for himself what it does to you, how it divides and corrupts you. Will it scare him? Make him mad? Give him nightmares? I hope all three. Whatever it takes to make sure that their bond isn’t broken.”

Bel-San raised an eyebrow, studying her. “Those are rebellious words, my dear girl. I wouldn’t go pitching that idea to the Council if I were you.”

“I know you don’t disagree.”

“Not with the principle, of course. It’s the methodology that worries me.”

Alla finished her cup, checking her chrono. “Is Qui-Gon there now?”

“No, thank the Force. I sedated Xanatos not long after Obi-Wan came in. He shouldn’t wake again until sometime tonight, but Thysse told Qui-Gon not to return until tomorrow.”

“Do you think he’ll listen?”

“It’s hard to say,” Bel-San said, shrugging. “But he’s got his hands full with the boy. They have some talking to do. Truthfully, I think he’ll welcome the reprieve from Xanatos’ presence.”

“Does he have visitation privileges?” Alla asked suddenly, her brain trailing somewhere behind her mouth. Sometimes ideas worked that way for her, bursting into thought fully formed.

“Xanatos?” The incredulity in Bel-San’s voice was palpable. “Why would you want to see him?”

“That wasn’t what I asked. Would I be allowed to see him?”

“I suppose, I mean, you’d have to be approved by the guards—“

She couldn’t help but interrupt, sarcasm quick on her tongue. “Those diligent guards, the ones who let Obi-Wan through? I wonder how adept I’d have to be to get past them. Maybe I could throw something down the hallway and distract them…or are they usually asleep?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, I imagine you could get approval. My question is, why?”

“I just want to go one round with him, that’s all.”

Bel-San made an indelicate sound. “It seems to me that we’ve got the solution to this problem in hand. Why don’t we just let you and Obi-Wan finish him off?”

“Oh, no. You’re quite mistaken on that one. I merely have a few words to impart, and then I’ll take my leave. I have no desire to see him off anywhere, death or otherwise.”

“Does Qui-Gon know you’re doing this?”

“I try not to clue him in when I know he’ll only worry.” She gave the other Jedi a bit of a smile. “Can you clear me for tonight?”

He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

***

It was past midnight when she walked into the cheerless room, and she was glad for the heavier robe she’d chosen to wear. The temperature truly dropped in this chamber, but whether it had anything to do with the nature of its occupant or the Infirmary’s desire to keep him less lucid, she wasn’t sure.

Thysse had warned her before her entry that he was indeed awake again, though his pain level seemed higher, and therefore he was on more medication than he’d been previously. Part of her wanted to encourage the Healer to save his remedies for deserving patients, but she held her tongue.

The scratch of her boot sole against the cold tile gave him a start, and she saw his dark eyes shine in the dimmed lights. She felt, rather than saw, him regard her, and fully appreciated Bel-San’s earlier reptilian comment. “So the circle is complete,” he said, voice rasping in his chest. “I met the future this afternoon, and in walks the past.”

She brushed a loose hair from the side of her face, and crossed her arms. “Practically poetry, that. Though you’ll be past tense long before he or I.”

Xanatos’ still form looked coiled to spring, though Alla knew the man couldn’t even relieve himself on his own anymore. “What was the boy’s name? Obi-Wan? He seems rather scrappy. Unfortunate business with his temper, though. Not much for obedience, is he?”

Alla couldn’t stop herself, and a slow smile spread across her face. “I really must ask you…has it truly come down to this? All of your raging, your pride, your dark powers in the Force…when you take it all away, you’re nothing but a handful of insults and a bag of bones. I think I fail to see what it is that’s so frightening about you.”

He blinked, unfazed. “If you no longer find the Dark side of the Force intimidating, you may be closer to it than you think. It seems that Qui-Gon’s padawans all have that problem.”

“Well, you have that problem, but thankfully, you won’t be a problem to the rest of us for much longer.”

Xanatos’ gaze caught hers for a moment, and it seemed there was no ending to the hatred in his eyes. “You seem to wish my death more than most around here. Rather bloodthirsty thoughts for a Jedi.” He beckoned to her with his single hand. “Kill me, if you like. You have the power to silence me with a single flick of your wrist.”

She snorted, a sound that had always bothered her former master. “That might happen. What sort of fool do you take me for? I wouldn’t waste the power it would take to ignite my blade.” Leaning forward slightly on her hip, she glanced over at the monitors that recorded his deterioration. “It must be difficult to have the Force elude you so, enough that you can’t even bring about your own ending. You’ll just have to wait for your failing black heart to finally stop.”

He gave her an easy grin, dangerous and enigmatic. “That was almost cruel, Alla. I knew you had it in you.” When she didn’t respond, he laughed, but it ended in coughing fit she thought might tear him in two.

Holding his ribs, he composed himself with the dignity of a senator. “What was it like, being with him all those years, and you wanting him so desperately, yet being denied again and again—“

“Oh, that’s very clever. It’s so easy for you to twist the facts around into whatever shape you wish.” Alla rubbed her palms together to keep them warm. “Qui-Gon never showed me anything but respect—“

“Respect? You were a slave to his mind, as I was. Bound to his egotistical, self-appointed mind, and expected to be grateful for it.” He pointed to his forehead, twisting a bit of hair around his finger. “And he’s still in there, worming around in your brain. You may sever the training bond, but he’s never crawling out of there. You’ll never be free of him. And you say I’m insane.”

“Not insane. Just pathetic.” The words snapped off her tongue like curses. “And you, you’re one to talk about freedom. How long have you gone without the feel of the hypo under your skin? How many days could you stand it without something in your blood?”

“I could bide my time, believe me. I had Jedi training. We spend a lifetime denying ourselves of the things we truly desire. And as you did, I learned from the best in that department.” He pulled a look then, one that imped compassion, and she felt her wariness increase. “It’s a shame we didn’t get to know one another better when we had the chance. We might have been friends.”

“I doubt it. There’s just something about hypocrisy and twisted evil that just puts me off.”

“And yet,” he said, his voice soft and pitiless, “you were drawn here to this very room. Why did you come? Surely not just to stick your fingers through the bars of the cage.”

Alla took a breath, as much to further her words as to steady herself. “I came to deliver a message.”

“Well, by all means. My time is short, you know.”

“Here’s a news flash for you. There’s only one reason you’re still alive, because you can bet that Payter would have ripped your throat out personally. But an exile’s death would have been too good for you. He wanted you here, to die here. Do you know why?”

“Your inflated sense of honor, I’d imagine, or some such.”

“Hardly. Do you think your words are going to wound Qui-Gon? That what you’ve done will break him? It won’t. You’re only making him stronger, with every syllable out of your mouth. You think you’re bringing him shame, but you’ve granted him grace instead.” Alla felt renewed strength as her words came, her centeredness returned. “The Dark side is not some infectious disease. We’re not going to catch it from you. Every second with you makes us more immune, because who the hell would want to be remotely like you?”

She watched him, but his countenance was like a still pond, despite the stones she’d just hurled. “I have a message for you as well, Master Alla. Am I right in assuming you’ve got some padawan hidden behind your robes somewhere?”

“She’s stronger in the Force than you ever were. You’d positively hate her.”

“I’ve no doubt. But let me gift you with this. I impart this to you, and because I know you won’t believe me, it brings me great pleasure to tell you.” His breathing had grown ragged, and his thin chest heaved with the effort it took to speak. “I had a vision. I would have hoped it was a dream, but it was truesight. I saw the Temple shaken to its foundations. I watched its towers crumble, falling into nothing. I heard the cries of a thousand Jedi, and it brought tears of joy to my eyes.

“I have seen the destruction to come. It will be glorious. And you bring it all upon yourselves.” He fell back against the pillow, his eyes closed tight against the tide of pain that wracked his frame.

“Your words,” she said, finding her voice, “are dust in your mouth. I wonder what it was you were on at the time.” She turned towards the doorway, tucking her cold hands in the sleeves of her robes. “Enjoy that little vision of yours. Lies are in good company with you.”

***

“I don’t understand why I can’t be in the same room with you.”

“Because I said so, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan sighed, following behind his Master as they moved through the Infirmary. He felt the gazes of several Healers fall on him, ones that hadn’t given him a second glance the previous day. Slade’s performance had been nothing short of legendary, although from what little he’d heard from his friend today, Heri’s punishment would be doubly so.

Well, if he’d learned anything from the stories he’d heard of his Master and his friends during their apprenticeships, it was that sometimes you had to risk getting in trouble in order to do what had to be done. Of course, he didn’t tell that to his Master, because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t hear any more stories then.

His Master pulled him aside down an empty corridor. “Do we need to go over what we talked about last night?”

“No, Master.”

“Are you sure? I might feel better if we did.”

He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He wasn’t a stupid little kid. “I’ll stay with Healer Bel-San in the Observation room. I won’t leave with anyone but him or you. I will not go into his room again.”

“And?”

“If I don’t want to stay anymore, I don’t have to.”

His Master dropped a hand on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan looked up into his tired face. “I don’t know how else to tell you, so I feel I must show you.”

Through their bond, he could sense the weariness that shot through every bit of his Master’s signature, and it worried him. He knew Xanatos couldn’t even get out of bed, but he didn’t want Xanatos to see his Master like this. It made it look like he’d won, when that wasn’t the case at all.

“Are you going to be okay, Master?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’ll get by.” He straightened himself, pulling a calm exterior around him that Obi-Wan knew wasn’t entirely real. “This way.”

They approached the guarded doors to Xanatos’ room, but turned the corner instead and entered a small chamber. A long window ran the length of the far wall, and through it, he could see Xanatos’ lying in bed surrounded by more machines than had been there the day before.

“Oh, you’re here already.” Healer Bel-San entered, holding two stools. He gave Obi-Wan a slight smile. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, walking over to take one of the stools from the Healer. Bel-San looked even more tired than his Master did.

“He’s been in and out this morning, from all accounts. It’s taking more and more to keep him comfortable,” Healer Bel-San said, and then his voice fell away. Moments later, his Master reacted to words not spoken, and Obi-Wan frowned. It wasn’t fair to use mindspeech when he couldn’t be in on it, and it made him wish Slade could be there so they could do the same thing.

“I’m going next door,” his Master said, looking back at Obi-Wan. “If you need me—“

“I know. I will, Master.” He tried to make his voice sound reassuring, but it didn’t work as well as he hoped.

Healer Bel-San set his stool down by the window, but he sat with his profile to the protected glass, not looking directly through, as Obi-Wan did. Seeing Bel-San in white robes rather than brown ones still surprised him, and he felt awkward suddenly, as if he hadn’t known Bel-San for nearly his entire life.

“Something on your mind?” The other Jedi’s voice was kind.

“Not really, I guess.” Obi-Wan shrugged, climbing off the stool and touching his hands to the glass. “He can’t see me at all?”

“Can’t see or sense you, not that he could do that anyway.”

“And my Master can’t either?” That thought was strangely disconcerting. “Well, he knows you’re here, so that makes a difference.” Healer Bel-San pulled a small remote from his pocket, but sighed as he did so. “Do you want to hear what they’re saying?”

He saw his Master’s mouth moving, and saw Xanatos’ sick body move on the bed.

“Yes.”

Bel-San clicked the button, and instantly, two small receivers lit up near the ceiling.

“…there’s not much time.”

“Of course there isn’t. You knew I was dying, and yet you and your healers, as you so politely refer to them, have done nothing.” Xanatos pointed to the equipment around his bed. “If I were still in the Order, you can be the circumstances would be different. I thought you had bacta tanks around here.”

Obi-Wan leaned closer, his nose nearly against the glass. His Master sat down on a stool that was too short for his legs. “Bacta can’t fix what’s wrong with you.”

“And your almighty Force can do nothing?”

“The Force no longer recognizes you, Xanatos, because you no longer recognize it.”

“If I had a credit for every one of your inane sentiments, I would own my own planet. You’re like a taller version of Yoda with better grammar.”

Obi-Wan gasped at that, disbelieving anyone could talk to his Master that way. He wanted to pound his fists on the glass. “He can’t do that,” he said, his voice barely audible to even himself.

Xanatos was talking again, and he stopped muttering to hear him speak. “…didn’t bring your little one with you today, I see.”

His Master stiffened a bit. “He’s none of your concern.”

“Oh, it does concern me, Master,” he said, the word turned into a joke in his mouth. “I did wonder if you’d be able to take another one after me. At first I thought you never would, but now I see your ego couldn’t keep you from a new padawan. Tell me, is he very good?”

“At his age he is more than you could have ever hoped to be. He is strong, intelligent, and compassionate beyond measure.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, thankful for the praise, but hating the means by which he heard it.

“Not so compassionate yesterday. He would have cut me in half if he had a lightsaber.”

Qui-Gon drew himself up a bit. “You must have been confused by what you saw. You wouldn’t understand it…it’s loyalty, to his Master and to the Force.”

“You tell him, Master,” Obi-Wan said, resisting the urge to bang his hands on the glass in support.

“Is it very tiring to be so damn principled all the time? I remember a very different Qui-Gon Jinn. One that was more likely to break rules than endorse them. There were quite a few,” Xanatos said, smiling, “who thought you’d turn yourself.”

Turning to stare at the silent Healer, Obi-Wan took a step in his direction. “That’s not true, is it?”

Bel-San’s eyes rose to meet his. “Do you think it is?”

“No, I don’t.”

The Healer breathed a quiet breath, nodding. “You just learned a very important lesson. You can’t trust anything a dark Jedi says. Whether it’s true or not…that’s irrelevant. He’ll tell you whatever he thinks will help him get what he wants.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, confused. “But…what does Xanatos want? We can’t save him. He’s going to die. What else is left?”

“He’s setting fires wherever he can. Not real ones, of course. But he’s trying to hurt us, to make us question ourselves, to disbelieve, to plant guilt, to sow discord, cause chaos.”

One thing that Obi-Wan really liked about Bel-San was that he used big words around him, and never assumed he didn’t know what they meant. Still, in this case, he rather wished he didn’t know.

His Master was speaking again. “…always another way.”

“Your way, of course. It was the only way, and still is, apparently.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I haven’t come this far to change my mind now, and believe me, sitting here with you has only solidified my convictions.”

His Master closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan wished he could be there to stand beside him. It wasn’t fair he had to fight this on his own.

“You’ve always gotten everything you ever wanted, Qui-Gon. Everything you’ve ever loved has loved you back. You should be thanking me for the object lesson I was for you. Sometimes we don’t get what we want. And you, unfortunately, can’t be angry about it.” He hissed his words like an angry feline. “But you know what they say. Try, try again and all that. Maybe your little one, your new golden boy will do you proud. But you’d better take him down from that pedestal you’ve got him on, because he’s never going to live up to that.” Xanatos laughed at that. “Force knows I couldn’t.”

From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Bel-San’s finger move towards the audio switch.

“No!” he said, and then corrected his tone. “Please. I want to hear what he says.”

It took a long moment before his Master made a move to speak. “You’re right,” he said, and then fell silent.

“What?” Obi-Wan’s hands shaped into fists, and he stared harder at his Master. “No, he’s not!”

Surprise, a look that had not crossed Xanatos’ face in the entire time they’d been watching, crept onto the man’s features. “That was a first,” he said, the incredulity evident in his voice. “To what do I owe that unexpected pleasure?”

“You’re right. I didn’t get what I wanted.” When Qui-Gon lifted his eyes to look back at Xanatos, there was a light burning there, and Obi-Wan’s hands loosened. “I wanted so much more for you. I wanted to see you Knighted, to see you take on a padawan of your own, to see you grow and succeed. I wanted to see what wonders the Force would work in you.

“You rejected me, denied me, and would have cut me down, if you’d been able. You wanted to see me brought low. You wanted me to believe I was nothing.” Qui-Gon stopped, and Obi-Wan could see that for once, Xanatos was listening to him. “It would seem that neither of us got what we wanted.”

“You should mark this day, Master,” Xanatos said, his voice failing. “The one and only time we’ve ever agreed on anything.” He shut his eyes, his single fist closed tightly on the blankets.

Obi-Wan trained his gaze on Xanatos, looking for the creature that had haunted his dreams, for the evil that had a whispered name, but he couldn’t see it anymore. All he saw was a thin, wounded boy, not even an adult, who was more frightened than he’d ever been in his whole life.

“Was he always bad?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

Healer Bel-San came to stand beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “No, not always. But he lacked certain qualities.”

“Like what?”

Bel-San shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Humility, I suppose. Kindness.”

Obi-Wan considered that, trying to sort out the emotions that ran through his mind. “Do you know what I think?”

“What’s that?”

He pressed his palm to the glass, as if somehow that could make him understand. A part of him felt like crying, but he kept it inside, making his throat ache. “I think,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “I feel bad for my Master. But I feel worse for Xanatos. Because even when my Master’s with him, he’s still by himself.”

“That was the other thing he was missing,” Bel-San said, squeezing his shoulder.

Obi-Wan watched as his Master moved hesitantly to Xanatos’ side. He had fallen unconscious again, and his Master brushed a gentle hand over Xanatos’ head before turning away. “What other thing?”

“Mercy.”

TBC